


The Chance That Becomes an Inevitability

by Mysterious_Loser



Category: Valkyrie Profile 2: Silmeria, Valkyrie Profile Series
Genre: Allusions to Those Dark Thoughts, Dark Thoughts, F/M, Minor Adult Situations, Reference to the Valkyrie Profile Anatomia Wedding Event Between Rufus and Alicia, Ridiculously long story, Weeping Lily Meadow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterious_Loser/pseuds/Mysterious_Loser
Summary: In another space of time, Alicia stood before a chapel, adorned in a wedding dress she couldn't recall knowing. Here, in this time, she struggled to be more than just Silmeria's host and Princess of Dipan. In another space of time, a half-elf loved her enough to want to take her as his wife. Here, in this time, it felt as though he could hardly stand the sight of her. Even if there's no one left to listen as she recounts the strange dream, the sway of the weeping lilies seem to indicate understanding.





	The Chance That Becomes an Inevitability

**Author's Note:**

> This is an...interesting kind of story. I normally don't write like this, romance and darker themes and smashed elements of different ideas together, but I couldn't stop myself haha. Plus, the game is from 2006, so I'll be surprised if anyone actually reads it. But I wanted to write Rufus/Alicia really bad, and have wanted to for years. After the wedding event happened in Anatomia, I REALLY felt the need to.
> 
> I was also super stoked to learn that Valkyrie Profile Anatomia is scheduled for a spring release, so this is my tribute to that. I hope that the wedding event also comes with the English game as well :) Please don't take my hack job of a translation seriously ^^; Since the mobile game is a visual novel style, I added in all of the movement and dialogue tags based on feeling and the moment. Because of that, I also tried not to translate directly. But the Kobolds really do come in to steal the Ring of Mylinn and cause havoc, so it's pretty funny. Every game needs those Kobolds.
> 
> The scenes from the wedding are all written in italics and separated with hyphens. Actually, just about all the scenes are separated by hyphens. 
> 
> I'm currently going through a replay and have always wondered why the weeping lily meadow was never mentioned, and decided to make it an element in the story. Saying any more will just be confusing, so I'll leave it at that.
> 
> Please go easy on me. I haven't written Valkyrie Profile in years XD But here's my contribution to the small Rufus/Alicia archive. I hope you like it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> Valkyrie Profile is copyright of Square Enix, as well as the story title, which is a track name from the official Valkyrie Profile OST. Sorry, I couldn't think of a better title that encompassed what I wanted for this story, and I've always sort of dubbed it as the Alicia/Rufus love theme or whatever since it's what usually plays with the two of them XD

**\/\/\/**

  


**The Chance That Becomes an Inevitability**

  


**\/\/\/**

  


For weeks, she had the same dream.

Each time, her wedding day, a day she never thought predictable. Not with Silmeria in the picture, anyway. But this dream left Alicia feeling both ecstatic and disconcerted. It wasn’t the beautiful, gilded chapel that left her apprehensive, not with its golden pillars and a floor that reflected like still waters. It wasn’t her snow colored dress, which blossomed around her tiny form like a lily, making her look like a real woman, instead of the child she knew to be inside.

It was the groom that distressed her.

For every time that her wild dreams would take her to the edge of the chapel, she hoped for a different groom, would she be able to enjoy the dream at all. But, without fail, _he’d_ be standing there, in his silk, off-white vest and top hat, so out of place with his long emerald mane and red headband peeking out from underneath.

It wouldn’t leave her so despondent, were it not for two things: one, the fact that Rufus appeared to hate her and, two, the dreams were beginning to pull at her heartstrings.

He’d always call her by name in the dream, something that she found sent shivers up her arms and legs. She wasn’t just “Princess,” or “Her Majesty,” or “Princess Alicia.”

  


-

  


_“Alicia.” Rufus ran in from somewhere—she couldn’t remember where in the dream. But, there he was, dressed half like he was about to get married, and half like he was about to go out monster slaying. It made her giggle, especially when he did a half spin in front of her, arms outstretched. “Have you finished changing? Mine fits with no problem.”_

_She, on the other hand, was more concerned with the heavy weight on her finger. Holding her hand out for him to see, she said, “Rufus, look.”_

_And he did. When his eyes got wide, she thought she’d burst with joy._

_A smile split his own face as he pointed to it and said, “That’s…the ring of Mylinn.” At her nod, he said, “You still have it?” He averted his eyes, but the smile in them never faded. “I figured you’d thrown it away by now. It’s not even your size.”_

_She let her hand dangle in front of his face a moment longer. “That doesn’t matter. This is my good luck charm.”_

_Only then did his eyes return to the ring. “Good luck, huh?”_

  


-

  


Alicia didn’t know what it meant, either. She’d only ever seen the ring on Rufus’ finger, and he sure didn’t consider it to be good luck, not from what he’d told them all in the Audoula Temple.

The first time, she paid little heed to the dream, even if it _had_ caused her to glance twice at the archer. The second time felt a little more disheartening, but she knew how to keep her emotions and thoughts in check, especially when she wanted to hide something from Silmeria, who could invade her thoughts at any time, even if the Valkyrie claimed that reading the princess’ thoughts weren’t hard to do in the first place. The third time, and every time after that, left Alicia more worn down, more vulnerable.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked the Valkyrie one night when they were all alone in the inn of Coriander. The men had been courteous enough to spare the OTH for two bedrooms, despite the known fact that they carried very little with them to begin with.

Not one to beat around the bush, Silmeria replied, _**“Don’t fall for him.”**_

And Alicia tried to do as she was told.

But, in her dream, she’d lost the shiny, red ring, and it was stolen by something small and scary. Rufus would be disappointed, she knew, and, in the dream, she cried and cried.

Alicia woke up crying, too.

_**“It’s just a dream,”**_ Silmeria assured, although it always felt more like a resignation than a comfort. _**“I know what you’re thinking, and you need to let it go.”**_

Of course she knew what Alicia was thinking. It seemed that there would never be a day in which that wasn’t true.

Under the canopy of trees and scattered stars, deep inside the forest leading to Villnore, Alicia curled up next to Dylan, whose eyes were secured on whatever lay in the distance. She couldn’t see that far, but never felt insecure when next to her Dipan protector. For once, Silmeria, too exhausted or distracted to commune with her, couldn’t be detected. Alicia felt that it was a good thing. Anxiety filled her, and she couldn’t stop shooting glances at Leone and Rufus, who sat on the edge of camp. They talked in front of the fire, while Lezard and Arngrim lost themselves in their own conversation.

“Something troubling you?” came the deep rumble of the voice next to her.

Dylan propped himself up against a large, twisted tree, and she scooted closer. His eyes watched her, with curiosity, perhaps, and she pulled her knees into herself.

With Leone, Rufus came off as kind and informative. He’d been around a while, and had more stories to share about the lands in the area they were in. Alicia tried to listen in as inconspicuously as possible. Her unwanted ears would cause problems. With Silmeria, the archer was always sassy, but she wondered if they came from his contempt of the gods. Either way, he had something to say to both women of their party. With Alicia, there was always disdain and scorn.

The worst of it had been back in the Serdberg Mountain Ruins, when she’d become so weary of being the burden holding everyone back. She vowed to do everything herself and never ask for help, even though the strain on her body demanded that she take it easier. Her friends had seen it, too, and it resulted in a bad fall on Alicia’s part. Rufus had been so angry with her, tending to her wounded leg, chastising her all the while. 

She knew that, were she not Silmeria’s host, she’d have no part among them at all.

“When you were alive…” Alicia’s lips cracked as she spoke and it made her realize how long it’d been since she last uttered a word worthwhile. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “When you were alive, was there anyone that ever… _interested_ you?”

At his quirked brow, she knew she was being strange.

“Pardon?” he asked.

Instinctively, she shrank into herself, but kept her eyes on him. Suddenly, the question felt wrong to ask.

“You know,” was all she came back with, especially since a lull in Rufus and Leone’s conversation, as well as Lezard and Arngrim’s had caused a sizable silence.

The longer the larger man stared at her, the more mortified she felt. Then, he closed his eyes.

“Ah. I think I understand your meaning.” Shifting himself so that he squarely faced wherever he was looking at, he said, “Once, a long time ago, there was someone I felt such a connection with. She was a powerful woman, dominating, and I found myself wishing to be very near to her.”

Alicia smiled. “And were you?”

He nodded. “For a short time, yes. But, our duties were in constant confliction and, thus, tore us apart.”

Her smile faded as she gathered his meaning. Even Dylan, strong and loyal, had suffered at the cruel hand of love. She wanted to tell him that she understood his pain. As her eyes flickered to someone who only seemed to call her by her given name in a dream, she wanted to express commiseration, and ask if he had ever recovered.

But then he spoke.

“Is there someone you feel that way about?”

It just didn’t feel right to put that same burden on her protector, even though she’d asked first.

“Not really,” she replied.

  


-

  


_In her dream, she walked through a beautiful valley, a path beaten down to dirt, and she stopped to admire the view. The hills ascended and dipped, the wind rustling tall blades of grass as a mother would run her fingers through her child’s hair. For a moment, she mistook colorful flower petals for birds as they swirled in the sky. When the breeze embraced her, she laughed, holding onto the willowy veil on her head and the flowers in her own hand._

_It came as a gentle reminder that she was late to her own wedding, and she inwardly questioned if she would make it in time. She’d gone out without telling Rufus, and feared that he’d be upset._

_“I’m so sorry, Rufus,” she whispered before picking up the ends of her dress to continue down the path toward the chapel. “Please wait just a little longer.”_

_Comfortable at first, she quickened her pacing and hopped over a small decline in the path and around the bend. But, even during her adventures, she’d never worn heels quite like these, and her body hit the ground all too abruptly when her ankle gave way. Even in the dream, the pain surged through her body and Alicia jolted awake, just in time to remember that, once again, she’d lost the ring of Mylinn._

  


-

  


Alicia did her best to keep her thoughts quiet as she studied herself naked in the full length mirror. She only had a little bit of time to do so, as she now shared her room at Villnore’s inn with Leone. The mercenary had gone out with the others, to which Alicia gently declined in joining, and unabashedly stripped herself until the cool air pricked her bare skin.

She wouldn’t admit that she was jealous, because she wasn’t, of the way that Leone’s frame fit squarely into her armor, which lacked the bulkiness and ridges of that like Dylan and Arngrim’s. It appeared made specifically for the older woman’s body, every inch and curve and bust. Alicia turned sideways and examined her hips and thighs. In the mirror, they appeared natural and proportionate. Why was it that, whenever she was fully clothed, she felt awkward and plump? Almost like a pear.

The muscles in her jaw tightened as her hands slowly cupped her breasts, which were much smaller than her mercenary counterpart’s and did not identify as well with the rest of her pear-shaped frame.

_**“Tell me, is this the reason we avoided going to market today?”**_

The princess dropped her hands and staggered away from the mirror. Heat hit her cheeks, and it budded evident as she stared at herself in the mirror.

“N-No,” she stammered and seized her clothes from off the floor.

_**“It’s not like I haven’t seen you nude a million times. Why the sudden interest in what you look like?”**_

Alicia bit her tongue and wriggled her body into her underwear before pulling the miniskirt up over her shapely hips. Unkindly, she inwardly called them, “child-bearing hips,” earning a chuckle from Silmeria.

_**“You’re comparing yourself to other women? How unlike you.”**_

“I’m not doing anything of the sort,” Alicia fired back, wishing for the blush on her cheeks to fade. “I think I pulled something during a fight yesterday.”

_**“In your breasts?”**_

Instead, the blush fought on, and the princess allowed her hair to spill over her face. Squeezing her eyes closed, she said, “Everywhere.”

For a moment, she believed Silmeria to have left her, but then the Valkyrie returned with, _**“Don’t fall for him, Alicia.”**_

She’d say it a handful times more, but never explain why.

  


-

  


_“Rufus, please forgive me. What…what should I do?”_

  


-

  


It had been many years since Alicia last saw so much sand, and, after ten minutes of standing in Kalstad’s scorching heat and flogging sandstorms, she hoped she wouldn’t have to see so much of it again.

Her friends left her at the inn, which doubled as the tavern, while they divided into two groups to ask the townsfolk for any particularly strange places that might serve as a holding dais for the Dragon Orb. Frustrated with her own inability to keep up, Alicia grumpily seated herself at one of the stools at the counter and ordered a tall glass of water. Silmeria knew better than to bother her when she got this way, even though her presence would’ve been more than wanted in guiding them closer in the right direction.

Alicia scolded herself when her friends formed a circle around her as they spoke of various places to survey, but none asked for her input. She’d almost hoped that Silmeria would sneak in a hint that Alicia could run with, making it feel like it had been her idea all along.

…The things one would resort to in order to feel useful. She felt pathetic.

In the end, Leone and Rufus split up for the west side of town, and Dylan and Arngrim for the east. Ever the good friend, Lezard remained behind to look after Alicia, whom he remarked had grown rather sickly in the face.

“Most likely due to a lack of hydration,” he said and gestured to her untouched water as he seated himself on the stool beside her. She hadn’t even seen the barmaid set it down. “You need to drink.”

Nodding without meeting his eyes, she took the water and drank. It was after the third big gulp that she realized how much she needed this, and continued to chug, even after Lezard told her to slow down.

“I understand you’re dehydrated, but you’ll only make yourself sicker if you drink it too quickly.” Even as he scolded her, his tone remained light and amused, as though he were doing it to a small child. Or a puppy, or something.

She didn’t even try to hide the budding flush on her cheeks. It served as a reminder how kind Lezard could be while letting Alicia know that she couldn’t do anything on her own, even an act as simple as drinking water. Rufus would’ve probably flipped a table and stormed around the place.

She hadn’t realized she wore that last thought on her face until he cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single finger.

“I hope you won’t become insulted by my observation, but I must admit that you haven’t been quite yourself lately. Is something the matter?”

She couldn’t stop her fingers from fidgeting around the glass and set it down before she dropped it. Only then did her eyes meet his to engage in a friendly stare. At least, she thought it was friendly. She certainly hoped that the materialization of his smile hadn’t been spurred from the uncomfortable eye lock. Although she could feel Silmeria on the brink of her mind, listening to every word, Alicia so desperately wanted to confide in someone—anyone—even if it was Lezard.

She was angry—angry that Rufus had gone off in search of information with Leone instead of someone else. Arngrim or Dylan would’ve been better choices, but it seemed that the female mercenary and archer ran together a lot these days, especially when it came time to split up. Alicia wanted to be as self-reliant as Leone, having the know-how of the land, the bestiary, and where the Hel the Dragon Orb might’ve been taken to. Sitting in the middle of a circle with no one talking to her left her clenching her hands into fists that left little fingernail impressions in her skin.

Finally, Alicia settled on, “Lezard, am I useless?”

The question appeared to take him aback, which he never seemed to be a lot of the time. His eyebrows crested the top frame of his glasses, and his mouth made a near perfectly shaped, “O.” She would’ve found the antic funny, if she hadn’t been feeling so crummy to begin with.

“Might I ask what has sparked this train of thought?” he queried back.

She had expected a simple “yes” or “no,” not insight into the matter. The more information she divulged, the more she knew Silmeria would berate her about it later. It felt like a lost cause, no matter the outcome. If Alicia had to guess, she knew that Silmeria knew _exactly_ what was on the princess’ mind.

Alicia shrugged and refocused her eyes on the glass before her. Less than a third of water remained, although she wished for more. Drinking would’ve served as a better alternative to answering the question outright.

“Shall I infer that this has something to do with our dear mercenary friends?” he asked, words laced with amusement. It led off into a small chuckle, too low that she almost hadn’t caught it.

“Arngrim’s fine,” she replied, perhaps, a little too quickly.

“Then, it’s Lady Leone?”

Alicia finished off the water in a hurry, and let the glass linger for a while around her mouth.

He didn’t wait long for her answer before he spoke again, “She appears rather worldly for a mere mercenary, don’t you think? I must admit that I’m rather surprised she would take an eager interest in our search for the Dragon Orb.”

“She says it’s for the treasure,” Alicia replied into the glass, and then mentally kicked herself. He had been there to hear Leone’s reasoning. The motivation hadn’t been lost on anyone.

He adjusted himself on the stool. “Is there something specific about her that you don’t like?”

The question had her pondering for a long time, wondering if there could possibly be a true underlying reason why she had a problem with Leone’s presence, or if it had stemmed from pure jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion that Alicia found herself wearing more and more like a form-fitting coat. Envy, she knew, but she guessed that there was little difference between the two emotions.

It felt like Silmeria’s cue to jump in and offer her two cents with added exasperation, but the Valkyrie steered clear of the conversation. Alicia didn’t know why, but felt grateful for the lack of intrusion nonetheless.

“No,” she said in a near whisper that she almost didn’t hear herself. Bringing a little more volume to her words, she continued, “She’s very nice and smart. She’s funny, too.” Leaning back on her stool, she looked heavenward. “She’s what I imagine a caring sister would be like. She makes me feel like I can do anything, like the way Dallas used to make me feel when we were children. And almost…motherly. It’s like hearing kind, soft words that comfort you when you’re down. Sort of like what warm tea and honey feels like going down after you swallow it.”

“That’s quite a comparison,” he said, offering another chuckle. “She has taken quite a liking to you, though I doubt it’s because you’re Lady Silmeria’s host.”

That brought a frown to Alicia’s face. “But she asks a lot of questions about her.”

“Well, that’s to be expected, Your Majesty. After all, two souls sharing a single body isn’t what you’d consider a common case.”

True enough, she knew, but it didn’t dissolve the lingering discomfort in the core of her stomach.

Before she could stop herself, she turned her eyes on him and blurted, “What would you do if someone you had feelings for was at risk of being taken away by someone else?”

For a moment, she swore he went pale. All signs of his usual, lighthearted nature vanished, and she knew she’d asked the wrong thing.

He stammered the first part of his answer before articulating, “That’s quite a heavy question. I assume that there is reasoning to be found in between the lines of context?”

She didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, but knew that her question had been direct, and not something he could prepare himself for. For a moment, she wished she could retract it, and flee upstairs to hers and Leone’s room. Again, he adjusted the glasses on his nose and ears, his nervous tic, until a smile wobbled back onto his face.

“I don’t think you have anything to be worried about in regards to Sir Rufus,” he said, starting Alicia from her place on the stool at the sound of the archer’s name. “His priorities seem to be on the Dragon Orb, and, when they’re not…” he pointed to the place on her boot where a small, healing scab on her knee lay—the same one she’d earned during the bad fall at the Serdberg Mountain Ruins. She had only recently removed the bandage from it, “…they’re on you.”

She pressed her lips together at the memory, another which ranked high on her list of not her fondest. In another effort of trying to prove herself, she’d gotten hurt. Rufus did nothing short of yelling as he tended to the wound and finished off with an expertly tied bandage.

Lezard must’ve guessed at her thoughts, because he added, “Fear not. Lady Leone may have many things, but Sir Rufus’ heart, she does not.”

The sudden admission jolted Alicia from her stool and she turned away from the mage, only now finding it necessary to hide her face from him. “W-What makes you think that that’s what I was talking about?”

She would’ve taken him more seriously, but he appeared amused as he said, “Forgive me. I spoke out of turn. Now then…” He hailed the barmaid and requested a second glass of water. “For the young lady,” and Alicia could only imagine him gesturing to her frame, although she hadn’t the courage to face him. “She’s not feeling quite well.”

Despite her protests, Lezard coaxed her back to the stool, and would not let her rise again until she’d finished the second glass of water. She didn’t dare utter a word regarding their previous conversation. Lezard was mistaken about Rufus’ feelings toward her, that much she knew. Still, when she felt positive that he wasn’t watching, she smiled into her glass.

-

  


He was always so mean. 

Alicia found him to be so mean to her, even when she tried her best to be nice to him. In the Surts Volcano Caverns, she tried to sympathize with his being tormented by the gods. In the Palace of the Venerated Dragon, when it became painfully clear why Leone looked so fit in her armor because, well, what perfectly generated Valkyrie _wouldn’t_ be? Even there, his misplaced blame for Hrist taking the orb away left her shaking. And, as Dipan sunk beneath itself, her parents included, and her friends slipped away, his anger blasted through like a sunray in a chapel window.

Not _her_ dream chapel, she reminded herself.

He barked at her when she could think of nothing else but something clearly stupid to say, and she could take it no more. Dropping her head into her hands, she cried. She cried for the loss of her kingdom. She cried for Dallas. She cried for her parents. She cried for Silmeria, and she cried for her friends.

“Sorry…” he said over her wracking, but she couldn’t stop, no matter how weak it made her look.

  


-

  


_“Don’t look so down,” Silmeria told Alicia in her dream, just after the ring of Mylinn had been stolen away. It was like looking in a mirror, the way Alicia would’ve pictured herself if she had been born more beautiful like a Valkyrie, hair windblown, royal purple armor, and gossamer wings that looked softer than the wedding dress she wore now. “Is there a reason for this depression?”_

 _“The ring of Mylinn,”_ _Alicia sniffled out, the memory of the small creature running away with it clear in her mind. “Why? Why did you do this?” The princess had meant for her thoughts to reach the perpetrator, but she couldn’t concentrate. On one hand, Rufus was waiting for her—perhaps he thought she’d left him at the altar. On the other, her most sacred possession had been stolen._

_But, even with her discombobulated thoughts, Silmeria apparently knew her former host so well. With a laugh that fit the Valkyrie, she said, “I see. So that’s it, huh?”_

  


-

  


It was clear to Alicia that Rufus would rather be traveling alone than with her.

He almost had, if her sniveling hadn’t driven him to stay. That’s how _she_ felt, anyway. He’d sidestepped away on the border of her fallen kingdom, ready to flee like the rest of her friends and Silmeria had. Where they had gone and why, she wanted to know, but felt too afraid to ask. If she asked again, surely Rufus would snap at her.

He remained quiet as they made their way out of the mouth of the Royal Underground Path, and she struggled with a million things to say. If she said the wrong thing, he’d leave. He would. As long as she said nothing, it wouldn’t be the wrong thing, and he’d stay.

At the edge of the forest, he directed them toward Sukavia Gorge. According to him, it was the fastest route possible toward the Forest of Spirits. But she didn’t want to go that way. Faster meant one day closer to being alone. At the beginning of this journey, she had had a clear purpose in mind. Now that she’d failed on all accounts, the last thing she wanted to be reminded of was where to go when Rufus finally left, too.

“Can we…” She trailed off, uncertain of how her request would affect him. “Can we go through Kythena Plains instead?”

She could almost visualize the irritation dripping from off his words. “Why? That’ll take longer, and the aim is to get the Dragon Orb back from Odin as soon as possible. Midgard is in trouble without it.”

_His_ aim, she had to remind herself, and that was if he chose to take on the task. _Her_ aim, as sad and pathetic as she felt, was to keep herself in the presence of favored company for as long as possible. It was selfish, and she knew that. The entire world of Midgard was on the brink of destruction, and there would be nothing to feel lonely about if there was no world. She knew that. It was selfish. _She_ was selfish.

She forced her eyes to meet his, but found it difficult. It wasn’t enough that he always appeared irritated with her, hands on his hips, brilliant, viridescent eyes searching hers for a reason that didn’t render him agitated. She hated how he made her feel, hated the burning in her chest and shaking in her legs. She hated that, whenever she looked at him, it was always her dream bridegroom that stood in his stead. It didn’t matter if Silmeria no longer was with her, _**“Don’t fall for him,”**_ echoed in her mind like the church bells of her dream.

It was far too late for that.

He still appeared to be waiting for an answer long after he’d asked, as though the question hadn’t been rhetorical after all.

Pushing her fingertips together, she bumbled out, “It’s pretty dangerous to cross the mountain range, now that it’s only just the two of us. Even the townsfolk said that no one goes that way anymore. A lot of people have frozen to death on it.”

“It’ll be just as dangerous to go all the way around.”

She stood there, eyes directed to the leather of his boots, and fought her brain for something meaningful to say.

Nothing would come, and he turned his back on her.

“Fine,” he said after a moment. “But that means we make up the pace in other ways. Less breaks and resting.”

Although he could no longer see her, her head bobbed before she could utter, “Yes, that’s fine.”

He made his way down the forest path, his river length ponytail swaying after him. “It’ll add at least another two weeks to our journey, you know that, right? Why you wanna go that way anyway?”

She couldn’t tell him. If she did, he’d leave for sure.

  


-

  


_Silmeria brought the ring back, although it had taken quite a bit more time than Alicia anticipated. The Valkyrie reminded her of the time, to which the other panicked._

_“Even if you_ _**are** _ _late,” Silmeria said, “Rufus—”_

_The mere mention of Alicia’s betrothed’s name sent a stronger sense of urgency through her. “I…I can’t bear to face Rufus, now.” And she dropped her head into her hands, smashing the flowers in the process._

_All she could hear from the Valkyrie was, “Alicia?”_

_Rufus._

_“He worked so hard to prepare all of this for me,” she murmured, dropping her hands from her face. The flowers were a little wilted and one had broken in half. Alicia didn’t care. “This is a very important day, but not just for me. Rufus, he…” Her body quaked at the thought of him being at the altar all alone, feeling as though he’d been abandoned by the one he loved. She couldn’t bear the thought. “How low can I get?”_

_“…Alicia…” Two arms encircled the princess and Silmeria whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be all right.”_

  


-

  


It took a good, long week before they were en route to the Kythena Plains. Rufus refused to head into Solde, claiming that they were out of money, and that the port town had fallen into ruins since everyone up and left for other towns and cities. According to his theories, there probably wasn’t much remaining in the way of supplies or an inn anymore. Since the watch had also disbanded, there was nothing to keep monsters from coming into town, and sleeping with one eye open was what he did on most nights out in the woods already. He also shot down Alicia’s suggestion of monster hunting like the mercenaries did in order to line their pouches.

The nights were cold, and not just because the air had turned chilly. More often than not, Rufus constructed the fires in silence, and cooked basic meals where Silmeria had been more adept. The archer was less picky, but after the third night of dry, tasteless meat, Alicia yearned for her cooking again. Even Lezard had been an adequate cook. She knew she should’ve taken tips from them when she had the chance.

Camp had been full of conversation and laughter. Now, the silence ate at her like a disease.

Rufus never made eye contact with her and, when he did, it wasn’t for very long. He’d never announce when he planned to sleep in front of the fire. She’d turn to make small talk and he’d already be hidden under a wool blanket, his back to her and the flames. It took quite a bit of inner deliberation as to which she disliked more: the idea of being alone, or being with someone and still feeling alone.

The time on the roads weren’t much better. He’d utter a few words here and there, especially when it came to taking breaks, sneaking past monsters, or when to call it a day. It broke her to think that he could hate her so much, when, in her dreams, he loved her enough to want to call her his wife.

Silmeria had been right—it was all ridiculous.

It felt like a lifetime ago since Alicia and her companions had first crossed the Kythena Plains toward Coriander. Now, it was just her, the archer, and the near tangible wall he put between them. He always kept two or three paces ahead of her, and she’d begun to accept it. The distance grew as they walked the length of the plains, wading through thick blades of uneven grass from where the animals neglected to graze.

Her eyes turned down into the bowl of the valley, speckled white flowers glistening in the declining sun. The wind swept by them, and a milk colored petal grazed Alicia’s ear. The last time they’d passed this way, she’d become mesmerized by the sight, the grass hundreds of feet below, rippling like the waves on the ocean they had departed from earlier that morning. The sun painted the valley orange and pink, hues of violet dappled across the mountain ridge and the unmelted snow capping the peaks.

It was nearing that time. They’d have to make camp soon.

Pointing in the direction of the sherbet colored meadow, she said, “Why don’t we camp down there tonight?” As his eyes followed to see that of which she spoke of, she added, “We’d be out in the open, so it’ll be easy to spot everything before they do us. Besides, it’s such a lovely meadow.”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t share the sentiment. “Yeah, don’t think so.”

Her, “Why not?” left her mouth before he had the chance to fully turn away.

His brows lifted in a shock she didn’t expect, and he gestured with an open palm down into the valley. Another breeze swirled by, white petals gathering on its back.

“You’re not serious, are you?” he asked. “That’s the Weeping Lily Meadow. Spend a night down there, and you’re taking a permanent dirt nap.”

She tried to fathom the point he made, but her mind detoured as she realized that it was the first real explanation she’d received from him that didn’t involve some kind of snarky reply. Or, perhaps, she had been reading into it too much. The dream was really getting to her.

“Weeping Lily?” she quizzed.

He nodded, and his face softened into a blank stare that she couldn’t read. “That’s right. The pollen from the lilies is incredibly potent and can kill a person in a matter of minutes. Some claim that it might be magic, but, apparently, the meadow is rumored to be able to lure out the distressed and take their lives.” With a shrug, he added, “Think of how the Valkyries are always able to show up just as someone is about to die in order to make them their einherjar. That person’s life force, or soul, shines their brightest just before it fades.”

She hadn’t stopped to think about that before, and Silmeria never spoke of her duties as a Valkyrie. What was it like to collect souls just as a person’s flame went out? Alicia wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“You know a lot,” Alicia mumbled, feeling very silly for having suggested the notion.

“Common knowledge for a traveler,” he said. “The townsfolk in Coriander warn people about it all the time. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

She wasn’t. After all, she’d been locked away in a quiet castle for most of her life.

He motioned for her to continue on before doing so himself. She tarried, her eyes wandering the perimeter of the deadly valley. When the breeze touched her again, it radiated warmth, like the caress of that same mother she’d imagined rippling the soft blades of grass.

“You might want to start checking into history and lore a little more when this is all said and done,” he said once they reached the end of the plains. “It wouldn’t hurt to get an idea of where you want to settle down.” He offered her his profile, but never made eye contact. “Have you given any thought as to where you want to go after this?”

Perhaps a bit dramatic, but the question felt like a knife in her gut. What happened after the Forest of Spirits was the last thing she wanted to contemplate. Would there even be a Midgard left to contemplate?

“No,” she said.

His gaze returned to the road. “You might want to start thinking about it, now. If, at any point, you come across a town that interests you, let me know and we can part ways there.”

_How can you say that?_ she wanted to retort, but her timid tongue kept the words repressed inside of her. He’d long since dropped the conversation as he studied the land around them, most likely debating where to break for the night.

She never stopped thinking about it, not even when he settled for a quiet area under the mesh leaves of wispy trees that she didn’t know the names of. They weren’t far from the trailhead of Kythena Plains. Perhaps it was his way of staying close to civilization, since adventurers frequented the road.

He didn’t ask her to help build the fire, or to go hunting, or with the cooking when he returned with a lifeless animal, bundled in a burlap sack over his shoulder. Tasteless meat again, but he appeared to enjoy it. She figured it was her and her weird taste buds. Everything else seemed weird about her to everyone else.

After quite some time had passed, when the sun completely abandoned the sky and the cool air settled in, he pointed to her tin plate, fork sticking out of the meat.

“It’s gone cold,” he said, startling her back into conscious thinking. “Aren’t you hungry?”

With a sigh that she hadn’t meant to sound so heavy, she said, “Not tonight.”

He chose to forgo the fork and eat the meat straight from the bone. Perhaps he thought her too dainty for such barbarism and always gave her a fork. Ripping the meat in between his teeth, he said, “Suit yourself. Don’t leave it out, though. It’ll attract the animals.”

He was always saying stuff like that, like she had no concept of how things worked. It was her fault, she guessed, considering that it had always been Silmeria who’d done everything and made all of the big decisions.

She threw the meat into the fire, much to his immediate dismay. Looking down at him from over the popping flames, she recognized that stare, those displeased eyes, and the curl of a forming frown.

Breaking eye contact, he said, “I would’ve eaten it if I’d known you were going to do that. It’s not right to waste food.”

His words stung true, and she sheepishly returned to her side of the camp. “S-Sorry.”

He didn’t reply.

They continued that way in more silence, although she thought hard about a conversation opener. Everything played out in her mind the same, however, always leading back to the inevitable. What will you do when you reach the top of Yggdrasil? How long have you been traveling? Were you always alone?

Questions he wouldn’t like hearing. Questions she didn’t feel comfortable asking.

She wondered what the forbidden meadow looked like under the full moon, as its glow peeked out from over the treetops, spraying light through each crevice and space of the branches and leaves. How could flowers be so deadly when they looked so beautiful?

“You should get some sleep,” he told her. “We can stop in Coriander tomorrow for supplies.”

Had they already made it to Coriander? It seemed like so far into their journey, even though they still had quite a ways to go.

She nodded and pushed herself back against the closest tree to the campfire. He finished his meal not long after, tossed the bone into the fire, and fetched his wool blanket and quiver for a makeshift bed. She watched him, so still that she wondered if he knew she wasn’t asleep. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Again, as he’d done night after night, he lay his head on the quiver of arrows, buried himself under the wool blanket, and turned his back to her.

The blanket looked comfortable, but she wouldn’t tell him so. Maybe it was better not to get so close. It would make the parting that much more unbearable when the time came.

  


-

  


_Alicia hurled through the doors of the chapel, out of breath and shaking. Eyes zoning in at the center of the aisle, she was welcomed by the sight of Arngrim and Rufus, both who appeared to be locked in a kind of somber conversation._

_She was afraid to know what about._

_Still, she couldn’t stop herself from calling out to them, her voice echoing against the walls of the chapel, “Rufus, are you here?”_

_She nearly tripped, petals from her damaged bouquet raining to the glassy floor._

_“Alicia?” gasped out a voice._

_Composing herself, she smiled as Rufus neared her, his arms almost outstretched. She felt caught somewhere between a laugh and a cry at the evident relief on his face._

_“I’m so sorry for disappearing,” she said. “And I really didn’t mean to be late to our own wedding.”_

_He looked ready to take her by the shoulders, but something unseen stopped him. The smile died on his face, and, even under that handsome hat and suit, he looked positively downtrodden._

_“No, Alicia. I’m sorry.” Only then did his arms fall to his side. “It’s all my fault. If only I’d been more vigilant.”_

_Her brows furrowed together, his strange words swimming around in her head._ _**He** _ _was apologizing because she’d wandered away in the first place? “Rufus?”_

_He rubbed his face and pushed his fingers up underneath his hat to adjust the green mane there. “I really don’t know how to say this.” He wouldn’t look her in the eye, even as he said, “Those weird kobolds crashed the ceremony and made off with the wedding ring.”_

  


-

  


Alicia justified it to herself that she’d only be gone a little while, certainly not enough time for her companion to notice her absence from camp. He never seemed to notice her presence as it was, anyway.

Her feet carried her through the sparse woods, the warm wind coming and going, as though pulling her in the right direction. Before long, a white petal grazed her shoulder, and she plucked it from off her collar. Holding the small stem in between her thumb and forefinger, she studied the white hue under the glow of the moon, twisting and turning it in front of her face. Surely, a thing such as this couldn’t be poisonous. She felt no different here, holding one of the accused flower petals in her fingers, than she had up on the ridge of the Kythena Plains.

Perhaps Rufus had lied to her to keep them on track. She’d already steered them off-course by going around the Sukavia Gorge.

No, she told herself again. There was most certainly no possible way that a flower such as this could be as deadly as he claimed. She would go there and prove it. Tucking the petal into her hair behind her ear, she carried on, the light of the moon leading the way. She kept a hand on the hilt of her sword, but it slackened after a long while of hearing nothing but the stir of her breath and the crunching of foliage beneath her heels.

Never in all of her short travels had she come across a beautiful place barren of monsters. Perhaps luck was on her side after all.

Luck appeared all that she had left, even if it amounted to very, very little.

Jostled awake by a dream that now haunted her, Alicia wanted for nothing more than to clear her mind. The agony served as something different than having Silmeria ripped from her without an explanation, or her father murdered before her eyes, or her kingdom crushed under the gods’ feet, after she’d confided in Leone how much her family meant to her, or her closest allies abandon her with little to no resolve. She’d never understood it before, but her mother told her the day she’d been sent away that nothing broke quite like a heart.

As Alicia watched the man responsible for her breaking heart sleep, she felt a clarity come upon her that she’d never known. It fell across her as warm and heavy as she imagined Rufus’ wool blanket feeling, were he ever to conceal her within it. It was more than she could bear.

It appeared fitting that she be stripped of the title of “princess.” It wasn’t as though she had made a good one anyway. As she waded through the wild grass, she racked her mind for anything that could’ve made up for it. A worthy daughter? A cherished friend? A dependable ally? An adequate vessel for a death goddess? Marriage material?

The woods stopped at the end of a spacious clearing, and white lilies speckled the peaks of the grass for as far as her eyes could see. It had to be the most spectacular sight her young life had ever seen. She dubbed it to be true; nothing else could be finer.

She stepped down from a small hill until her feet landed in the middle of a cluster of white lilies. Her fingers brushed the lip of one and she bent down to inhale the pod of another. It reminded her of linens back home, in Dipan, the ones the maid used to hang outside. They’d overlook the royal gardens, and, when the maid pulled them back in to fold them, they’d come bearing the scent of flowers and lush greenery.

Alicia picked one and tucked it behind her other ear before pushing on toward the middle of the clearing, lifting her legs high in order to avoid stepping on all of the flowers. The night breeze swirled up around her, the glistening gold of specks in the air glittering in the moon’s light. She stopped to stare up into it.

Tonight, it appeared much larger, as though she could reach up and touch it. Then, her outstretched fingers were doing just that, although she never truly felt it. Closing her eyes, she pretended that she could. Then the wind embraced her, warmer now than the fire that Rufus was sleeping next to.

She imagined it being his embrace that held her now, apologizing again and again for letting the wedding ring slip away. She’d blamed herself while he him, and both anguished over their ruined wedding. But it only took his voice and kind smile to make her realize that their love wasn’t held in a ring. Although just a dream, it was the nicest dream she’d ever had.

  


-

  


_He knocked on the door to the room she’d holed herself up in, announcing his presence and if it was all right if he entered. No matter how long she’d been around him, he always managed to steal her breath away._

_As he entered, looking just as unsure as ever, frame fit in a wedding suit that brought a blush to her face, she realized he could still do that, even now._

_“Alicia…” he began, although he appeared to be trying hard to compose himself. “You should get read—” His eyes flickered to hers and then to the wedding dress donned across her body before a smile wobbled onto his face. In a low voice that emitted a kind of regret, he said, “I suppose we already are, huh?”_

_She found that she could not share his smile. Attention drawn to the wilted and broken flowers in her hands, she simply uttered, “Yes.”_

_In a firmer voice, he said, “Those two are still working on preparations in the ceremonial hall. We’ll wait here a little while longer while they’re finishing up.”_

_By “those two,” she knew he meant Silmeria and Arngrim, who had done so much in advance to plan for this day. And, if it hadn’t been for Silmeria retrieving the ring of Mylinn and supporting her all the way to the chapel, Alicia didn’t know what she would have done._

_Still, her heart wouldn’t allow her happiness. Because of her selfish tardiness, the wedding ring Rufus had planned to give her was stolen. It had caused him grief and turmoil, and it all could’ve been avoided._

_Some wife-to-be she was._

_Eyes still on the pathetic looking flowers, she mumbled, “Okay.”_

_“Alicia…” Rufus bridged the distance between them and cupped her chin. Forcing her eyes to meet his worried emerald ones, he asked, “Are you all right?”_

_Knowing him, his mind was probably racing with thoughts of how her absence had evolved into something larger, like wanting to call the whole thing off. She couldn’t bear the thought of him anguishing over her poor decisions any longer._

_Placing a hand over the one on her chin, she gently pried it away and attempted to smile, as empty as it felt. “I’m sorry. I’m just worked up from earlier.” Before he could voice the confusion he so obviously wore, she added, “I’m really,_ _**really** _ _happy to be getting married, but it still feels a little strange.” At his blank stare, she rushed, “I’m sorry to be bringing this up now.”_

_He closed his eyes. “Alicia…” He pulled his hand from hers, and, for a moment, she feared he would leave. After all, the day had been full of strange happenings. She wondered how much more he was willing to take. But he surprised her, gently taking her by each shoulder and leaning over her until his nose brushed the very top of her veil. “There’s no need to worry. Arngrim and Silmeria are here for you.” Placing a delicate kiss on her forehead, he whispered, “And, besides, I’ll always be here next to you.”_

_How she’d longed to hear those words from him. It made her heart flutter and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes from how deep his sincerity touched her. But, she still couldn’t stop the pain in her chest._

_She choked out, “I know.”_

  


-

  


Alicia swayed in the meadow as the breeze crossed paths with her again. She’d grown tired since coming out into the field. It was later than she remembered, but it felt so nice out in the open. It was the first time in weeks that she could say that she genuinely believed she was free. Leaving the safe confines of the field, she’d have to return to a camp with a man she couldn’t stop herself from feeling for—a man who blamed her for everything he was going through.

The kind words of her dream Rufus felt mortifying to think about now. He’d never utter such a string of syllables, not when his tone remained so clipped and cold toward her. How could he tell her to begin thinking of parting ways? How could he tell her to take note of the outside world to better prepare her for what was to come? It almost felt like how she imagined a released einherhar would.

Midgard was in danger, and she was being told not to think about it.

She dropped to her knees to better acquaint herself with the lovely flowers, pressing her face into a clump and breathing in as deeply as she could. She decided that they smelled more like the courtyard flowers of Dipan at night, when the kingdom around her heightened, lights glowing from the magic that Dallas and the mages bestowed upon them. Everything glistened with translucent color and glittered in the cobblestone, as though they were truly made from silver.

It reminded her of the ethereal glass floor of her make-believe chapel, just as this meadow reminded her of the valley she’d always stare out into each time the dream came to her. It was the same valley that made her late to her own wedding, time and time again, the same valley that would throw Rufus into despair each time she never arrived. And, again, she’d always believe him to be angry with her absence, when he was really fighting off invaders who’d stolen her wedding ring.

She chuckled into the lilies and gently recounted the dream to them, how handsome he looked in his suit, how he used strange weapons instead of bows, almost like magical fireworks or explosions, and how he kissed her forehead as he promised to never leave.

  


-

  


_“Hold something if you need to, even if it’s my hand,” Rufus continued, holding Alicia close to him. “If you feel the need to cry, then cry. No one will judge you for it.”_

_Alicia nodded, even though her head was pressed against his chest. “I know.”_

  


-

  


“It’s almost cute how he took everything upon himself,” Alicia told the flower, tracing the outline with her fingertip. “Even though it was just as much my fault.” Then she stopped as the inkling of a thought reminded her that, although it felt real, the context still lay in the confines of a foggy dream.

  


-

  


_Only then did Rufus pull back to look her in the eyes, his own warm and gentle. “Alicia, it’s my duty to catch you when you’re sad or when things get too tough. You’ve already been alone, holding onto no one but yourself. So, let’s cross the rest of the way together, all right?”_

_Something between a laugh and a cry cracked out from the back of her throat, feeling the tears hanging in the creased corners of her eyes. She hoped they wouldn’t fall, even though he said it was okay to cry._

_Even as she said, “Okay,” she shook her head._

  


-

  


Alicia tried not to take notice that the only two who had come to her wedding were Arngrim and Silmeria. Actually, it was with bitter irony that the mercenary come anywhere near her at all. It made her feel ill for quite a while, considering he’d been with them during her sporadic nights of having the dream, only to have him be the one to pull the lever to behead her father. Were the wedding true now, she wasn’t sure if she could stand the sight of seeing him there, even _if_ he was there to help her.

How her dream Rufus could speak to him so casually, in spite of everything, she couldn’t pretend to know. But Silmeria was there, too, and she appeared at ease with Arngrim’s presence. In fact, the Valkyrie’s concern was aimed more toward how Rufus could’ve let the ring slip away to strange creatures in the first place.

It made Alicia giggle as she remembered the other woman’s scolding.

Somewhere between recounting the dream to the lilies around her and thinking about Arngrim’s unwelcomed presence, Alicia fell on her back, outstretched in the meadow, eyes cast toward the starry sky. The wind swept up from underneath her, ruffling her skirt and duster, but she remained still. The golden glow of the pollen hung in the sky around her like tiny galaxies, bathed in the sparkling moon.

In the dream, her favorite part was always this one, where Rufus cheered her up. He seemed so sincere and earnest as he confessed his desire to remain close. It almost made her forget the man she traveled with, now, and how cold and snarky he could be. This Rufus could be that way, too, but he always did it with a smile.

She liked his smiles.

  


-

  


_“Rufus…” Alicia gathered the courage to speak, noting his confusion over her shaking head._

_“What is it?” he asked, almost timid—absent of the vigor his earlier tone had held._

_She wanted to ease his mind, but make one thing very clear. Poking him in the chest with her index finger, she said, “I don’t need to keep being protected.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off, “I want to be of help to you. When you’re sad or when times are tough, I will be by your side to support you.”_

_She stepped back to study his face, which reflected the blankness she assumed he was feeling. She understood. It wasn’t often that she asserted herself with him, but, lately, she’d begun to don the role more often. He was too good for her, and she’d never take advantage of that._

_Then, his face eased into a smile, one that she wasn’t used to seeing, either. She read it as genuine relief, as though he’d been worried she would say something else—a smile to hide how close he’d really been to crying._

_With a nod of his own, he said, “Then, let’s keep on living and supporting each other.”_

  


-

  


At least, in this dream, Alicia could be of use to Rufus. She could actually _do_ something and he appreciated her help. She wished she could be the Alicia of her dream, strong and independent, able to help the one she loved.

  


-

  


_Alicia took Rufus by the hand and squeezed tightly. “Thank you, for being by my side,” she said._

  


-

  


Alicia thought she’d stay in the meadow just a little while longer. The moon was beautiful tonight, and she’d grown so tired that she doubted that she could stand. A small nap under the stars wouldn’t hurt. Just fifteen or twenty minutes.

She felt a smile tug at her lips as her eyes fluttered closed, the stirring echo of her name being called brushing over her ears like the hot breath from someone’s lips.

Not long at all.

Rufus wouldn’t even notice.

Not long at all.

  


-

  


_Rufus chuckled and let her pull him closer. “We’ll be together forever,” he said and squeezed her hand in turn. “Alicia.”_

  


-

  


Forever was a long time.

  


-

  


_If Alicia had Silmeria’s consent, then she had all that she needed._

  


-

  


“Hey! _Hey!_ Open your eyes, dammit!”

  


-

  


_“Congratulations, Alicia,” the Valkyrie said, and beckoned the other in for a hug. “I am happy to give blessings to your marriage.”_

  


-

  


“Don’t give in, you hear me? Don’t you _dare_ give in. It’s not going to end this way!”

  


-

  


_When she pulled back, however, Silmeria’s smile wobbled. “And so, I’m truly sorry.”_

  


-

  


“ _Dammit,_ Alicia!”

  


-

  


_Brushing a tear from the corner of Alicia’s eye, Silmeria said, “That time, I had to have mercy.”_

-

  


“Don’t you _dare_ die on me…”

  


-

  


It had been a long time since Alicia felt truly warm.

Silmeria offered a kind of warmth to her that the princess had grown used to and taken for granted. The kind of warmth that Alicia longed for could no longer be given, but she swore that her mother gave the best hugs on Midgard. She knew it to be true because she’d never known another embrace like it, not that she had very many to compare it to.

That was why the warmth she felt now stood out like a strange color in the back of her mind. It pressed against her lips, then fed through the rest of her body like a river, neither too passive nor too harsh. It could’ve passed for one of her mother’s hugs, but it felt too ethereal for that. Her father never gave hugs, and Silmeria’s warmth felt different than this. Alicia imagined the frost of a flower melting in the awakened spring sun after a long and arduous winter.

The warmth ebbed and flowed, came and went, but it left her body feeling weightless until it came to stay. It was like her mother had never truly left—like Silmeria and her friends had never truly left. Her kingdom and parents would stay forever. It was a warmth that she could actually put a name, or two, to it.

Love.

Friendship.

  


-

  


When Alicia could focus her eyes, she recognized the velvet sky blanketed in darkness. She shifted her body, only to find herself entangled in a heavy blanket, one that she did not recall owning. It took some effort, and a little bit of time, but she hazily remembered the camp, and a fire that burned just on the outskirts of Kythena Plains.

Something firm pressed against the back of her head, and she lifted her hand just enough to caress it. 

Her fingers brushed a stiff feather as a low and familiar voice asked, “How do you feel?”

She turned her head toward the glow of the fire, which appeared heartier than she’d last left it. It could’ve also been the fact that she was situated closer to it than earlier. Just past the fire, seated with his knees drawn to his chest, was Rufus. The orange and red from the flames were deceiving as they painted his face. He looked worn down, as though he hadn’t slept in ages, and slumped over his knees like he planned on sleeping against them.

Only then did it dawn on her where the blanket had come from.

“Fine,” she said and struggled to sit up.

“Don’t,” his voice commanded, and she paused in her movements. “You need to rest.”

“I’m all right,” she protested, slightly confused. “Do you want your blanket back?”

His eyes bore into her, hard and unforgiving. Without meaning to, she realized she’d asked the wrong question.

“No,” he replied.

Her hand slid to the quiver bag without looking at it. She couldn’t break eye contact with him. She felt it would be wrong.

“What about this?” she asked, patting the bag. “I don’t want to break your arrows or anything.”

He pounded a fist into the dirt next to him. “What I _want_ is for you to damn well listen for once.” His voice reverberated into the air around them and she shrank deeper into the cavity of the blanket. Even as his green eyes pierced hers, the fire made them look like black orbs of charcoal. “What did I say about the Weeping Lily Meadow, huh? Can you tell me that?”

She honestly couldn’t remember. It was a bit muddy, but she recalled taking a walk. Had that been where she’d gone? The place with all of the snow colored flowers under the harvest moon?

Shrugging from under the blanket, she said, “I wasn’t gone for very long, and I couldn’t sleep.”

His fist cracked open and clawed the dirt beside him. Burying his face into his knees he gave off something between a growl and a yell.

When he pulled back to look at her again, he didn’t bother calming his tone. “Are you _stupid_ or something? Did you somehow forget the part where I told you how dangerous that place was? Why the Hel would you go out there, then?”

She pulled herself into the blanket, wishing for nothing more than to yank it over her face and hide. Maybe die, even. But she remained frozen, and he didn’t appear to be done preaching.

“If I hadn’t found you when I did, you wouldn’t be here right now.” He dropped the dirt from his hand and clenched it again. Then, he gave a long and tired exhale. With it, his voice lowered. “Look, just get some rest. The antidote hasn’t likely finished fighting off the poison.”

She thought better than to ask another dumb question, since it was quite obvious how sore he was with her. But the concept left her too curious, and she asked, “Antidote?”

He pushed himself to his feet, but staggered and swayed. For a moment, she believed he was going to topple to the ground. His voice betrayed his fatigue, carrying hints of annoyance with his words, “Yeah? What about it?”

“Where did you have such a thing stored? I don’t remember you buying it in Solde.”

“I didn’t.” He inhaled and she watched his chest inflate as he stood there, hands on his hips. “I made it.”

“How?”

He scowled and limped to the other side of camp, away from the fire. He stopped next to an old tree, and steadied himself against it until he could slide down into a sitting position.

“You ask too many questions,” he said. When his eyes flickered back to her, he added, “I learned how in the Forest of Spirits. Not _all_ world knowledge was lost on me being held captive there. The antidote is quite simple to make, but it’s the ingredients that make it a rarity.” 

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t seem ready to.

“What kind of ingredients?”

He stretched himself out alongside the tree and closed his eyes. “I don’t know the names for them in Common Tongue. Dried plants. Nectar. Things like that. I might’ve snagged some stuff before escaping from the forest. Didn’t know when they’d come in handy.” One eye snapped open and zoned in on her. “Shouldn’t have come in handy for _this,_ though.”

Her eyes dropped to the quiver behind her head. She stared at it, studying the gold designs, the porous crosshatching from the material, and mentally numbered each arrow, all to keep herself from looking up again. Rufus shuffled and made himself comfortable against the tree, grunting and adjusting. Eventually Alicia reclined once more and turned her back to him and the fire.

She lifted the blanket over her head and disappeared into the cocoon inside.

She wished she could actually disappear.

  


-

  


_Rufus paced the waiting room, hand perched under his chin. His unease wasn’t lost on Alicia, especially when he kept muttering, “Ring,” under his breath. No doubt, the matter of the lost wedding artifact hadn’t left him, even though he’d agreed to trade the ring to the kobold nemesis for a peaceful wedding. Eventually, he held still long enough to face Alicia, resolve in his eyes._

_“Since we’re without a ring, we can’t do this properly.” Then he squared himself toward her. “Alicia, do you mind waiting a little longer?”_

_But she’d waited for this moment long enough. If she had to wait any longer, she thought she’d burst._

_Shaking her head, she said, “But Rufus, we have a ring.”_

_He didn’t hide his confusion. “What do you mean?”_

_She held up her hand, donned with her good luck charm, dangling it for him to see. “Can we not make this into a wedding ring?”_

_He only had to glimpse for but a moment before saying, “But…that’s the ring of Mylinn.”_

  


-

  


Rufus wouldn’t speak to her.

All throughout breakfast and the strike-down of what little makeshift camp they had, he wouldn’t utter a single word. He also appeared to be having a difficult time completing even the simplest of tasks. As concerned as Alicia was for his wellbeing, she made no attempt at conversation. She feared that even the tiniest noise from her would set him off, and the last thing she felt that she could handle now was his sudden declaration that they part ways and leave her stranded on the other side of Coriander.

She silently offered to carry their travel pack when even that appeared too much for him to handle, and gently pried the strap from off his shoulder. Although he watched her, he said nothing. She, on the other hand, avoided his stare, but couldn’t keep herself from studying his limp as they walked the grazed path, hand touching almost every tree they passed.

It was almost enough to make her grab him and demand that he lean against her for support. But she continued to observe him in curious quiet, and wondered if they would ever speak again before his resigned departure. It allowed her the undesired time to reel and reflect on the night before, and the meadow that she had dubbed precious and almost as beautiful and ethereal as the meadow from her dream.

Rufus’ words chimed like the inside of a dull bell in her head.

_“Some claim that it might be magic, but, apparently, the meadow is rumored to be able to lure out the distressed and take their lives.”_

She wouldn’t have considered herself to have a death wish. No one would petition for her soul, anyway.

The trip to Coriander took most of the day, even though she and her former allies had made it in a little under three hours the last time they passed this way. More often than not, Rufus had to call for break, all of which he’d do in silence. The first time, he moved off the path to a fallen tree and seated himself on the log there, crossing his legs at the ankles before turning his attention heavenward.

He didn’t ask her to join him, and she didn’t try. Instead, she seated herself in a patch of grass and picked at the blades there while he caught his breath, which came out in heavy pants and coughs. It wasn’t like him to be out of shape, and Alicia wondered if he had caught a chill from the night before without his blanket.

Every other time he broke from the path, she learned to read his wants without asking, not that he’d tell her, because he still wouldn’t speak to her.

It was only when they crested the last hill before the forestland died away and Coriander came into a haloed glow from the sunset did she feel herself angry and daring.

As he took the first few steps forward on the descent down the hill, she called after him, “Are we to spend the rest of our time together in silence?”

Perhaps he was expecting the eventual question to emerge because he didn’t appear all that surprised when it finally did. He slowed to a stop, as though it had all been planned, and glanced sideways at her.

“Hey, _you’re_ the one not talking to _me,_ ” he said.

She gawked. Was he serious? With a pointed finger, she retorted, “That’s because you wouldn’t talk to me.”

He clicked his tongue in his mouth and went back to walking. Although a mutter, she heard him say, “There’s nothing to talk about, anyway.”

She fell into jarring steps after him, attempting not to trip and take a nasty tumble. Her desired point would be moot and ridiculous.

“There’s plenty to talk about,” she argued. “First of all, why are you limping? And why so many breaks? You’re the one who said we had to keep up the pace.”

She thought he shrugged. “I twisted my ankle yesterday,” he said. “Didn’t want to strain it.”

“We could’ve just put some salve on it. Even _you_ know that.”

“What kind of interrogation is this, anyway?” He whirled on her, but kept his pace, albeit slower than before. “Why don’t we talk about _you_ and what happened last night, huh? Why don’t we find out _why_ you thought going to the Weeping Lily Meadow was a good idea, even though I told you how deadly it was? Yeah, I think we should talk about that.”

Her mouth snapped shut. So, it was like that, huh?

She struggled for something to say, but nothing that would ease his bad mood came to mind. And, if she argued too much, she worried that he would dismiss her and head to the Forest of Spirits alone.

The anxiety of what to do became too much. Everything she wanted to say died on her lips. He continued down the hill in slow, careful steps without further communication, and she felt the burning in her chest, as though her heart had caught fire and scorched until it left nothing but smolder.

_**“Don’t fall for him,”**_ echoed Silmeria’s words.

Alicia was beginning to see why.

  


-

  


_Alicia continued to dangle her ring adorned finger under Rufus’ eyes as he stared at the red glow of it, mesmerized. “It’s our good luck charm,” she told him, all too aware of the irony it held. For a ring that had caused him nothing but grief, she hoped he saw it in the pure, loving light that she did now._

_Even though his grin pulled into a lopsided smile, she counted it as a “yes” to her proposal of having it become her wedding ring._

_It was what she’d wanted in the first place._

  


-

  


Rufus admitted in only so many words that he couldn’t take the pain any longer and consented to two rooms at the inn, despite their exhausted funds. Alicia wondered in agonizing disquiet what would’ve caused him such suffering that he had to break his own rules throughout the duration of the day: less breaks and less resting.

She offered to go to market to pick up dried goods for dinner, as there was no place in the inn to cook a proper meal. Before retreating into his own room, he passed her the last of their funds before mumbling that, yes, perhaps they’d have to pick up some mercenary work from the guilds after all.

The market was closing up shop just as she arrived, but the shopkeeper, eager enough not to turn away free OTH, allowed Alicia to pick up whatever she needed. Bread was the cheapest choice and a better alternative to tasteless meat, since they couldn’t afford the luxury of spices to make it more palatable. As a pathetic form of apology, Alicia also bought a muffin to split with Rufus, although she had her doubts that he’d share anything with her.

It made the truth unsettling as she dwelt on the dream all the way back to the inn, picking at her own loaf of bread, popping small pieces into her mouth. Her dream Rufus was willing to share a ring he loathed with her, even going so far as to call it his own good luck charm.

  


-

  


_The smile from his face disappeared momentarily as he took her hand with the ring on it, turning it over in his hand, and asked, “But, are you sure it’s okay? It’s too big on you.”_

-

  


“Rufus?” Alicia rapped her knuckles against the door to his room, adjusted the woven bag of goods in her other arm, and waited. “I have food for you.”

Silence replied back to her for a few moments, and she suspected that he had fallen asleep. 

She turned to leave when she heard him call through the door, “It’s open.”

Never before had she been so uneasy approaching the archer, and that was saying something, considering how she knew he felt about her. Spending the last couple of weeks alone with him had been tough; at least she had had her companions to buffer any unwanted embarrassment and hostility. She had been able to keep to herself in the shadows, speaking to no one but Silmeria. Looking back on it now, knowing what she knew, she felt both humiliated and stupid.

She’d trusted Leone, even if she’d been envious of how the other woman had caught Rufus’ attention with her skills and looks. Never mind Lezard’s consoling words of Rufus only having Alicia’s best interest at heart. Although it had been enough to make her feel better at the time, Alicia knew the truth.

Through Leone’s kindness, Alicia initially felt bad about her jealousy, believing the older mercenary to be something of a sisterly sort. As the rest of Alicia’s world fell down around her, the last thing she wanted to contend with was the possible rejection Rufus’ detestation of her would bring.

But she would apologize for last night. Even if it ended up in a one-sided roaring match, she would.

She fumbled with the lock and pushed the door open with her hip. Her first sight of the room was him sprawled out on the bed, stripped down to his bare toes, tunic, and pants. She caught him in mid-pull of his headband, but, at the sight of her, he tightened it around his head and ears.

Aside from the assorted clothes hanging from the back of a desk chair and the boots shoved underneath it, the room appeared untouched. Perhaps he’d gone straight for the bed upon their arrival and hadn’t moved since. With his free hand, he tucked it behind his head and watched her, face unreadable.

She hung in the frame of the open door for a long moment before swallowing back her nervousness and nudged it closed behind her with her foot. Clearing her throat she gestured to the woven bag before setting it on the desk in front of the clothing occupied chair.

“They were closing up shop, so I wasn’t able to get much,” she explained.

He shrugged. “S’all right.”

Pulling a loaf of bread from the bag, she crossed the room and handed it to him. He merely reached up for it and made no other movement. Several crumbs spilled on him and the bed covers, and she instinctively went to wipe them from his chest. At his sudden confusion, she composed herself and walked back to the table.

“You’re right,” she said, her back to him. “We don’t have much OTH left, so I couldn’t buy very much. I did pick this up, though.” Gingerly, she held the muffin up for him to see. From his reclined position on the bed, she wondered if he could. She added, “I thought that we could split it.”

He nodded and sat up in the bed to pick his bread apart. Alicia placed the muffin back in the bag, her confidence in bringing the conversation she wanted about waning. She had half of her loaf left from her walk, and wondered if he would mind if she ate in there with him. Deciding to test the waters, she pulled it out and nibbled at a broken corner.

Although still fresh and flavorful, the tension in the room kept her appetite low. Letting a small piece dissolve on her tongue, she swallowed and said, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” he admitted, eyes locked on the bread. He appeared to be even less hungry. “We’ll try to make up for lost time tomorrow.”

“Don’t push yourself if you’re not feeling up to it,” she said, earning a scoff in return.

“I wouldn’t _be_ in this condition if it weren’t for last night.”

She paused in mid-bite to look up at him. His attention was still fastened to the loaf in his hand, but he’d dropped them into his lap. She felt unsure of how to interpret his words. Wasn’t he suffering from a sprain? What did that have to do with last night?

Still, she said, “I’m sorry,” but he cut her off.

“You know, I’m not sure if you really are.” Eyes flickering to meet hers, his lips twitched before he said, “You wanna tell me what you were thinking? Heading out into the meadow, that is.”

She rolled her own lips together before placing her bread back into the bag. Eyes downcast, she managed, “I couldn’t sleep. I just went for a walk.”

“Some walk.”

She huffed, ready to grab the woven bag and head for her own room. Regrettably, this had been a mistake.

Before she could make it to the door, Rufus spoke again.

“Want me to tell you what _I_ saw?” he asked. Her eyes zoned in on the lock, fingertips so close to touching it that she could feel the electrical spark emanating. Not waiting for her to answer, he said, “When I woke, you were gone. I wonder if you can even imagine my first thoughts—that initial worry.”

Only then did Alicia leave the door and turn to him. He remained cross-legged on the bed, hand with loaf still in his lap. His thumb rubbed the top of it, eyes focused in on the action.

As he spoke of worry and confusion, he kept his tone even and calm, “I circled the perimeter of camp, calling for you, figuring you’d heard a noise that I hadn’t, and couldn’t understand why you hadn’t woken me if you had.”

“I—”

“I couldn’t tell you what made me think of the meadow, but I guess it’s a good thing I went with my instincts.” Only then did his eyes meet hers, dark and full of anger. Still, his voice flowed as though he were having a conversation about the townsfolk. “I saw you go down out there, in the middle of the meadow. I don’t think you were aware I was there, even though I yelled for you numerous times. But when you fell, all that I could think of was getting to you. Nothing else mattered.”

He held his gaze, but, under their intensity, Alicia found that she could do nothing but quake. Ripping her eyes from him, she found herself caught somewhere between fleeing his room and defending herself. Indecision grounded her, and she wondered how indifferent she must’ve appeared to him.

If she did appear indifferent, however, he didn’t let it stop him from continuing, and he did so with the same fluidity as before. “Maybe I hadn’t made myself clear the first time you asked about the meadow, so I’ll do it again.” He paused. “Alicia.”

“What?”

“ _Look_ at me. I’m talking to you.”

She swallowed but fearfully complied, eyes flickering up to meet his. He looked just as angry as before.

He lectured, “The Weeping Lily Meadow is one of the deadliest parts of this region. Not many are fortunate enough to survive the poison once it gets into their lungs, but those who _have_ liken it to being under some kind of hypnosis. They see and hear things that aren’t there, eventually drifting off into a deep sleep as the poison shuts down their breathing.” He shifted on the bed so that he faced her, and gestured with the hand that still held the bread. “The other wives’ tale is that the meadow actually has a curse on it, luring those seeking death out into the field.”

She rolled her lips across her front teeth at that part, not liking the way he worded it.

“I didn’t go out there to die,” she defended. “I was just taking a walk.”

He gripped the bread until it smashed apart between his fingers, crumbs raining down onto the covers.

Without warning, he dropped it and rose up onto his knees. “I carried you out of the damn meadow all while _screaming_ your name.” She drew back until she hit the door, and he looked ready to leap from the bed toward her. Eyes narrowed into slits, he snarled, “You were deadweight on my back—I thought I’d already lost you, and the only thing keeping me from joining you was _this._ ” He shoved a balled fist at her, the one adorning the beautiful red ring—the same one she’d been wearing in the dream.

  


-

  


_She kissed the ring and held it close to her chest. “It’s fine,” she replied. “This is the one I want. There is no better wedding ring for us.”_

  


-

  


The very sight of the ring caused Alicia to drop her gaze once more. To her, it was a special ring for her special day. To Rufus, it was the one thing that caused him unbearable pain, just like at the Audoula Temple. She remembered his screams, how long it had taken for him to return to his normal self, limping for much of the trip to Kalstad. He hadn’t felt well then, either.

Then she understood.

“Did you…” she trailed off, unsure of how to word her next question. It felt like lighting the end of a fuse to a bomb, and she didn’t know if she really wanted to do that.

He spurred her on. “Did I _what?_ ”

Eyes darting back to him, she asked in a near whisper, “Did you take off your ring?”

This time, it was he who drew back, the anger dying in his eyes. His arm lowered and he reseated himself on the bed, quietly scooping the crushed bread into his hand.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” he mumbled. Then, with a shake of his head, “This is a stupid, pointless conversation. Just go back to your room. We’ll start again for the Forest of Spirits tomorrow.”

The woven bag quivered between her fingers as dozens of thoughts fed through her mind—things he wasn’t saying, things he wouldn’t tell her. She could piece together some of it on her own, some from fractured memory and other bits from his own angry confessions.

_“Don’t you_ _ **dare**_ _die on me…”_

Head snapping to attention, she said, “You put the ring on me. But why?”

He continued to sweep the crumbs from his bed either into his hand or onto the floor. It almost felt like he was using the motion as a distraction from having to continue the conversation, but Alicia found that she couldn’t be sure.

“To keep you from dying, I guess?” he mumbled.

“But does the ring work like that?”

Even as the question left her mouth, her brain swirled with other realizations that left her trembling. If he had removed the ring, what had that done to him? What excruciating pain had he been rewarded with in order to ensure her survival? Was it the same as before? Was it worse? Had he done it before or after he carried her out of the meadow? What about the antidote? Had he concocted it without the ring?

So many unanswered questions, and he appeared less willing to cooperate in answering them. He seemed to be in pain as he lifted himself from off the bed, and limped to the small desk to dispose the bread pieces onto its surface.

“Guess so,” he said, incredulity flooding his words. “You’re not dead or undead, I’m pretty sure.”

As he stood there, wiping the crumbs from his hands and slapping his them together, Alicia couldn’t help but be reminded of the man who haunted her dreams. That man stood upright, dipping the brim of his wedding hat over one eye as he grinned, showing off the rest of his wedding attire. That man was excited to take her as his wife—he told her so as he complimented her silken gown, which cascaded over her body like soft streams, translucent like the moon. Rufus could be poetic when he wanted to be, which came as a splendid surprise. That surprise only heightened into unparalleled pleasure when he whispered his native tongue into her ear, something that made her tremble outside of the dream even now.

She’d dreamt it so many times that she couldn’t call it a dream anymore. But the man before her now bore her no such fondness. Thinking on it, she couldn’t recall that he ever had. For as often as Silmeria had warned her not to do it, Alicia found that she had let the precarious emotions of a lucid dream disable her, and now she was left with the ruinous repercussions of being a girl in love.

_This_ had been what Silmeria had been trying to protect her from. _This_ had been the very thing the Valkyrie had wanted to ward away. But, now, there _was_ no more Silmeria to ask for help or guidance. And, in a few short weeks, Alicia would be all alone to ponder that for herself.

Tears pricked her eyes before the words, “Why do you hate me?” left her mouth.

Rufus’ eyes whipped around to meet hers, undoubtedly noticing the crack in her voice. He hardly stood at attention, back slightly stooped and frail. He really _did_ appear exhausted.

His sigh was weary, both in nature and of the conversation, she knew. “What does hate have to do with it?”

Confused by the meaning of his words, she sought his face for something to betray his true feelings for her. But there was nothing recognizable behind the stony, chiseled features of his cheekbones and emerald eyes. Even the lines creasing his lips hinted at no alternate emotion to the enigma that made up the archer.

Fingers squeezing the handle of the woven bag, she shouted, “Everything!” before tearing the door open and throwing herself out into the hall. She hadn’t meant to slam it, but she did, and it was too late. Her room wasn’t next to his, and now she felt grateful that she had to cross the length of the hallway, and down a short flight of steps to her room.

Coriander was small, but their inn proved to be spacious. Were it an option, she would’ve asked the innkeeper to relocate her outside where she belonged. At this point, she felt that it was nothing less than she deserved.

  


-

  


_Rufus appeared taken aback as she spoke such kind words about a ring that he harbored such ill feelings for. Still, he took her tiny hand in his, ring and all, and kissed the red jewel with a smile._

_He said something in elfin that she didn’t understand, but it sounded so beautiful that she begged him to say it again. He did._

_“Is that so?” he asked, the breath from his lips coming as invisible, hot wisps over her knuckles. She told him again. She wanted this ring as their wedding ring. He lifted his head and said, “All right, if that’s what you want, then we’ll do it.”_

  


-

  


Alicia let the woven bag drop to the floor, the bread and muffin tumbling out from inside as she hurled herself onto the bed. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, dampening her pillow, and she eventually had to turn it over because the wet feeling irritated her. She rubbed furiously at her eyes and sniffled. She hated being like this. If Silmeria had been here, she would’ve scolded the princess and berated her for doing _exactly_ what she had told her not to do.

_**“I told you not to fall for him,”**_ Alicia imagined the Valkyrie saying. _**“I knew this was going to happen.”**_

Looking at it now, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t have given to hear Silmeria’s voice again, even if Alicia had been doomed to a lifetime of chastising.

Alicia squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if she’d find herself locked in the same chapel, with the same groom and same ring for the taking. She wondered how long the dream would rear its uncomfortable extremities, unwanted as it was, sharp teeth tearing at her heart just as _he_ did.

Now, it was all out in the open, what she was going to draw from the situation, anyway. He had saved her, using his ring and some antidote he’d created with the knowledge of the elves. Reflecting on it now, she wondered if she hadn’t been looking for a way to die after all. Perhaps she’d be shown favor, and rebirth would find her as an assuaged mercy from the gods, even if it was only to escape a life that had abandoned her, parents who stopped loving her, and a man who found himself repulsed by her.

Could he tell her feelings just from her smile or desire to be close? She prayed he couldn’t. She thought she’d die if he knew. It didn’t matter anyway. If she knew him, he’d leave before dawn and set off toward the Forest of Spirits himself.

Her mind wandered at the prospect of just settling down here in Coriander, and if she could do well at living in the countryside. It would all work out if Midgard survived the wrath of the gods. If she was lucky enough, the innkeeper would take her in and give her a job, or recommend her to one of the farmers. She’d do anything at this point.

She’d do whatever it took to find a place to belong.

Tears pushed themselves out of her squeezed eyelids.

She didn’t want to be alone.

Soft knuckle raps came to her door, accompanied by the male, “Can I come in?”

She froze at the sound of Rufus’ voice, although it came through the wood as still as the stream just outside the inn. Alarmed at having him there, and over the fret of her own disheveled appearance, she tarried in responding.

“Alicia?” he came again.

Her voice cracked with her, “Just a moment,” and she drew in several deep breaths before rolling off the bed. Her feet hit the floor and she smoothed her crumpled skirt and duster. Her knees almost gave way, but she managed to make it to the door with only a light head and a tear-stained face. As she pulled back the door, she tried not to make immediate eye contact with him, only gesture with her hand for him to come inside.

“You don’t have a lantern going?” he asked, hovering in the dark door frame.

Her eyes were on his naked feet as she said, “I was going to bed.”

He paused. “Mind if we light one?”

He waited outside the door as she sought for where she’d last seen the thing before going to market. When she took too long, he wordlessly joined her, leaving the door open to let the hallway lantern light stream into the room. She passed him the lantern, and he struck the stick and stone that the inn provided until a small, white glow danced at the end of the stick. She studied the silhouette of his face as he worked the fire into the small cloth inside the lantern—how concentrated he appeared, and how soft his expression had grown.

She wondered about his mood, and what side of him she’d be talking to once the door closed.

She took the liberty of doing just that as he set the burning lantern down on the desk across from her bed, her room a mirrored, identical representation of his.

“What can I help you with?” she mumbled after a long bout of silence fluttered by.

He stood before her, arms at his side, and she could hardly make out his face, his back to the lantern.

“I don’t hate you,” he said after a moment. “I never have.”

Retorting with something defensive came as her first thought, but she bit her tongue and let him finish.

“I was scared, all right? I know that seems crazy, considering that it’s me, but I was.”

She locked her fingers in front of her body and tried not to appear stiff and skeptical. As hard as she tried to meet his eyes, she found that she couldn’t. No doubt, he’d already seen her swollen, red cheeks. They burned at the mere thought of them, and she hoped he wouldn’t make commentary about it.

When she stayed silent for too long, he added, “ _Yes,_ I gave you my ring to wear when we got safely out of the meadow. I wanted to put it on you sooner, but no sense in both of us dying, right? I mean, it was a damn good thing I didn’t succumb either, but, then again, I wasn’t out there for as long as you and, well…” he trailed off. “This isn’t coming out the way I want it to.”

Her head remained bowed, fingers clasped together until they hurt. She allowed his words to churn through her like liquid in a cauldron—something she would’ve seen Dallas doing when they were younger, Gyne and Walther helping him with a spell.

Rufus sighed. “Say something, will you?”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “for having to put you through that pain. I didn’t mean to.”

It was his turn to fall silent, and that made her uncomfortable. Would this conversation lead into another argument? Had he come to tell her he decided to leave after all? It wouldn’t have surprised her, given her reckless actions, but she just couldn’t bear it if he told her exactly that.

Stepping away from him, she asked, “Why put the ring on me, though? I thought it stopped you from aging. How would that help me?”

He turned in a slow circle until his back was to her. Only then did she lift her eyes to see him tinkering with the lantern, which had a perfect, steady flame.

“Actually, it has the power to stop aging and decay. That is to say, it stopped the progression of the poison in your body, but that doesn’t make it go away.” His thumb and forefinger tinkered with the little knob on the base of the lantern. She didn’t know why; the fire appeared fine to her. “An antidote was still necessary. If I had taken the ring off of you before that, you would have died.”

She didn’t have to ask when he found the time to formulate such an antidote. All she could do was imagine the torment he had to have been in as he measured, mashed, and mixed the ingredients. Did it take long? She wanted to ask that, and if it still hurt. All of these things, and she was too scared to know the truth.

She seized him from behind, ignoring the stiffening of his body as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head into his back.

“Hey—hey!” but he made no attempt to break free. He dropped his hold on the lantern and straightened himself. “What are you doing?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said into his shirt, blubbering and heaving as the tears rolled down her cheeks again. Her eyes stung and face itched from the dried salt. “For all of your pain, I’m so sorry.”

He relaxed, an exaggerated exhale his reply. She squeezed tighter, and released at the sharp intake of his breath and a quick wince. Only then did her senses come over her, and she dropped the embrace altogether. Eyes vacillating across the room, she shuffled backward, feeling incredibly embarrassed. He turned to face her.

“Sorry,” she said again, and cleared her throat. “You must still be in a lot of pain. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop apologizing all the time,” he said and lifted a hand, a glint of red from the ring reflecting off of the lantern’s light. Then his face contorted. “Stop crying, too.”

Her hands were already wiping her eyes before he’d finished speaking, and sniffled. But she couldn’t stop. It was as though her tears had a mind of their own and fell freely, even as she condemned them.

“Alicia.” The way he said her name turned her to stone. She could only look at him through blurry eyes until the tears broke free again.

With a heavy sigh did he come toward her, lifted hand outstretched. She had half a mind to panic—reject his touch and flee. But as his hand came down on her wet hand, which was still pressed to her cheek, he cupped it and gently pushed it away. Then his hand found its way to that same cheek, his thumb slowly sweeping just under her eye.

“Stop it,” he said, soft and kind as he brushed the tears away. He moved to the other and did the same. “You’re going to make yourself ill.”

As she looked upon him, she recognized the rare smile that he never gave her, except in that dream. For a brief moment, she could see him, white top hat and suit, as he told her that it was his duty to protect and support her. She could see him as he fretted over a stolen wedding ring, and blamed it on strange kobolds, and how he and Arngrim spoke in hushed tones as she came barreling down the aisle, expecting him to call off the wedding altogether.

Her hands snapped around his, which had been in mid-stroke on her cheek. She pulled back, despite his gasp and protest, to stare at the ring on his finger. So, this was the ring she had asked for during her wedding? Looking at it now, it appeared much different than each and every time Rufus had thrust it into her face. Maybe it was the glow from the lantern, but she found herself captivated. Her thumb ran over the red jewel in the center, the smooth polish beneath her skin warm.

His hand went limp in hers and she glanced up at him. His eyes were closed, the faintest hint of a smile appearing on his face. She returned the smile, although he didn’t see, and went back to the ring on his finger. Up close like this, which she never had been, she could understand the sense of urgency her dream self had had in retrieving the ring, and how important a trinket she’d never known could become to her.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said, breaking her from her thoughts. “I’m just happy that you’re safe.”

It occurred to her that he hadn’t the faintest idea of her dream. He couldn’t know that this ring meant something else in another space of time. It saved her there, but it had saved her here, too.

_He_ had saved her here, just as he’d said he would there.

His smile broke into a nervous chuckle, and only then did he pull his hand away. “C’mon, you’re making me uncomfortable. Say something, already.”

He let his hand dangle in mid-air and her eyes followed. “Thank you,” she said.

Then he dropped his hand with a light huff. “ _That’s_ all?”

Eyes still on the ring adorned hand, Alicia pulled it back toward her, and dipped her head until her lips pressed against the stone. She didn’t know what had compelled her to make such a bold move, but she wondered why, in every instance of her dream, Rufus had done it. Even after being so daring, she still didn’t understand.

A sharp intake of breath was Rufus’ response before he tore his hand from her grip and clutched it to his chest as though she’d bitten him.

“W-What the Hel was that for?”

She looked once to her own hand, as though it had acted of its own accord, before hiding it behind her back.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted and avoided his eyes, which held fast to her bed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

He rubbed his ring and finger with the other hand as though wiping spit or a disease away. “You should probably get some sleep. We need to get an early start tomorrow.”

A heavy weight pressed down on her chest like gravity. She replayed the act multiple times in her mind, but couldn’t explain herself, even _to herself._ This wasn’t her dream. It wasn’t like she could expect him to be agreeable to what she’d just done.

The worst fear came when she realized that she’d just undone any kind of friendship that they could’ve had.

Everything her mind controlled in order to mediate the situation, her heart had completely destroyed it. If there’d been a chance that he’d consider staying, it was long gone. This wasn’t the man who’d agreed to share a ring of the divine in a marital vow, and this certainly wasn’t her betrothed. She wished Silmeria were here. At least, the Valkyrie would’ve taken over before Alicia had done the irreversible.

“Hey, hey,” Rufus hovered over her like a mother hen, taking her shoulders and leaning down until he matched her height. “Now why’re you crying? I’m not mad, all right? Just a little surprised, that’s all.”

Only then did she feel the fresh tear tracks sticking to her skin. Her breath hitched in mid-sob, and Rufus sighed before pulling her into his arms.

He gently rocked her, and she couldn’t mistake the hint of annoyance in his voice as he said, “You need to calm down. Whatever you’re getting worked up about isn’t worth it.”

But it _was_ worth it. Seizing the folds of his tunic between her fingers, she kept a vice grip hold that caused him to stiffen.

Before she could reconsider, she replied, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m right here.”

She shook her head against his shirt, rubbing the fabric across her forehead. “No. When we get there. You’ll leave, and I’ll be alone.”

She knew she was being vague, but couldn’t muster the courage to formulate the words on her tongue. Individually, “forest,” “of,” and “spirits” were harmless. Together, it created a formidable enemy, and translated into a painful emotion, one that ripped her to pieces.

It wasn’t like she expected him to catch her meaning, but Rufus often surprised her.

“Humans can’t enter Bifrost,” he said, as though explaining to a child why they couldn’t play in the mud, or stay out after dark. “We’ve already gone over this.”

“I know!” She hadn’t meant for her voice to carry, but it boomed around them, and he stopped rocking her. Two moments, then more, passed in thick silence. He kept his arms where they were, encircled around her body, perhaps too wary to move. Words absorbed into his shirt, cold and wet from her tears that wouldn’t cease, she said, “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

One by one, everyone she had come to care about had disappeared. It was the first time in her life that she had had friends besides Dallas and Silmeria—ones who weren’t frightened about the secret she harbored, ones who could carry conversation with her beyond that point. But then, they all left, too.

The betrayal from Leone and Arngrim had been the worst, them knowing how much her family and Dipan meant, only for them to be the ones to send her father to the guillotine. As to where Silmeria, Dylan, and Lezard had gone, only her imagination could lead to the conclusions. Were they safe? Had they been captured? Did they even care anymore? She didn’t know. She wanted to. But, then she didn’t.

“So… _That’s_ why you went out there,” Rufus mumbled, his arms tightening around her, as though she’d crumble to pieces otherwise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She wasn’t sure what he meant. What conclusion had he come to? It scared her to know.

Still, she replied, “I didn’t think you wanted to know. I thought that you’ve hated me all this time.”

“I don’t _hate_ you,” he snapped back, causing her to flinch. “Why do you think I hate you?”

She didn’t answer right away—didn’t know if she had the courage. Before she could formulate a reply, he spoke again.

“You would rather die than confide something this big in me? Why have I been around all this time? I wasn’t just some handpicked adventurer hired by Silmeria to get you back to Dipan, you know.”

Feeling it appropriate, she tilted her head up toward him and blinked out two more tears to clear her vision. His face set into narrowed eyes and a stern frown. He appeared genuine in his words to her as he searched her own eyes. For a moment, she felt ashamed.

“I didn’t want to die,” she said.

“Your actions last night spoke differently. Maybe it wasn’t a conscious decision, but the feeling must’ve been strong enough to lure you out to the meadow.”

She chewed on the idea of that. Could magic work in that way? Somehow, she didn’t doubt it. In the last few weeks, she had felt more alone in the company of the one she yearned for than she had in a long time. It rekindled the pain of her childhood, something she thought she had long since put to rest. Even to herself, she found that she could still hide everything.

“You think I hate you,” Rufus went on, “but now that you know the truth—all that I did to keep you alive, can you honestly still say that?”

She remained still in his arms, unable but to feel enchanted by the sole purpose of his words. She refused to allow herself to believe in his sincerity, but, for one ridiculous moment, she saw the silhouette of his silk top hat adorn his head and giggled through her tears.

Her giggle prompted a small one from him, and she wondered what was going through his mind. His smile cut through as pearls in the dim light, but the feeling evoked warmed her to see a true smile, one she thought only possible in her dreams.

“You’re not supposed to laugh while you’re getting lectured,” he said through low chuckles. “You’re so weird.”

“You’re one to talk,” she quipped back as an automatic reply. Stopping to think about it, she found that she had no ground to back the statement up with. Before he could challenge the claim, she changed the subject, “What about when we get to the Forest of Spirits?”

His humor waned. Eyes shifting to somewhere behind her, he said with every bit of soberness, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was better than his original resolve. Only then did her hands slacken, the folds of his tunic falling from her fingers in slow clumps, as though the fabric had formed into the shape of her stony fists. She winced at the stiff pain in her knuckles, white and trembling.

“I’ll support you,” she said in a murmur. For a moment, she felt as though the words had come through as a passing thought, but she recognized the moving of her lips, and knew that the words were real.

His brows lifted as his gaze returned down to her, arms sliding down to the small of her back. “What?”

It hadn’t been the first thing she wanted to vocalize, the favorite scene of her dream in which she felt the most independent—the most like a woman. But, once she started, she didn’t want to stop.

Forcing her eyes to remain on his, she continued, “When you’re sad or when times are tough, I want to help you through them. I want to support you for however long you’ll let me.”

She shook in his arms, although tried to deny it. If she could do nothing else, and if the whole world crumbled around her, the life had already been breathed into the words that scared her to even think about them. Her heart sank as her eyes searched his, which were wide and confused. His hands dropped from her, leaving a chilly trail behind as the warmth dissipated. Her shaking intensified, feeling the reality of having, yet again, said the wrong thing.

“You’ve always been alone,” he said in hushed tones. Suddenly, his thumb came up under her eye to brush away the fresh stream of tears that fell there. “How is it that you’ve always been alone?”

She sniffled and attempted a smile. Again, she said, “You’re one to talk.”

His thumb pressed firmer into her skin, and then his whole hand came to rest on her cheek, and then the other. She froze as his face neared hers. His eyes roamed hers, as though seeking answers to his question there.

In just as quiet a voice, he said, “It’s not right that you’ve always been alone—to never have been loved.”

Her lips parted to speak, but then his fell on hers, like a soft mound weighted against her, neither forceful nor reluctant. She froze under his touch, the act initially strange and foreign. It wasn’t like she hadn’t imagined it a million times, the weight of his lips against hers in the dream, right as their vows echoed into the chapel around them, much to the chagrin of her Valkyrie counterpart.

_**“Don’t fall for him,”**_ disappeared into the winds of her mind; Alicia already knew she had drowned in this reverie.

Her hands moved back to his tunic and grabbed the fabric there, and he welcomed her closer. Pressing back against him, her heart thundered in its place against her ribcage. Embarrassment gripped her as she knew he could hear it, too, this feeling of yearning she’d never known, but had come upon her like one of Dipan’s tidal waves.

His chuckle came out as breathy between his lips as he replaced himself at the corner of her mouth in a light kiss, the slick of his tongue trailing the spot there. A mix of confusion and impatience filled her as she sought his lips again, but he kept them out of reach. Instead, his butterfly kisses washed over the tear tracks on each side of her face. Then, they wandered to her ears, her forehead, and the very tip of her nose.

Her impatience transitioned into concern, as though she’d read the signs wrong—not that she had much to go by. Silmeria never offered any advice, although it had been clear at some point that the Valkyrie had experience the emotion of love herself. Alicia pulled her head back, away from Rufus’ soft lips, and searched his face. She caught the flash of his hooded eyes before they opened, dark pine orbs meeting hers.

Before she had the chance to read their expression, she launched up onto her tiptoes and snaked her arms around his neck. He made no resistance as she pulled him down toward her, snagging his lips with hers. Her own forcefulness surprised her, but dissolved as he returned the ardor, using his lips to encourage hers open. His tongue pushed through when she reacted too slowly, entering into her mouth that drew hers into submission. Her mind wrapped around the new sensation as he explored her mouth, her heart battering her chest until it throbbed.

She became a statue as his tongue, pliant and rough, pressed against her own. She didn’t know how to reciprocate or act. Clumsily, she tried to push her tongue back, but he held firm to his place between her lips. Even as his arms gathered her into him in a desperate embrace, she froze. He gave her little time to register her own thoughts, the moan coming into her mouth in a low rumble that almost didn’t sound like it could come from him.

Without notice, he pulled back, pants heavy and tired. It was like someone startling her awake, popping a bubble right next to her ear. She flinched, but he kept her close. Her shallow gasps mingled with his breaths as thoughts swirled up inside of her. A dream, she would’ve resigned it all as being, but her knees would’ve buckled were it not for his strong arms, and she felt as though her body would combust into white flames. She wondered if he could hear the raging of her heart.

“You need to get some sleep,” he whispered, almost hoarse as he spoke. He must’ve seen the confusion on her face, because he smiled and said, “I’m still pretty beat myself. Don’t want to rush anything.” He chuckled, even as he pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

Keeping still against him, she found that her legs felt too much like liquid to keep standing on her tiptoes. She slowly dropped to the heels of her feet and he let her. Only then did his arms slacken, and he redirected them to her shoulders, face red and glowing against the lantern’s flame.

She lifted her hands to take him by the elbows, the meaning of their actions becoming concrete in her mind.

“Rufus?” It came out low and ragged, like an uncertain question—not the confident command she had originally intended.

“Hmm?”

“Will you stay?”

The chuckle returned, although came laced with shock. Removing himself from her, he lightly flicked her nose and shook his head. “We both need our full strength, and, if I stay, I think we both know that that’s not going to happen.” Her face reacted before her thoughts could, prompting the widening of his eyes. “Uh…maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.”

She lingered on those words, spinning them around until she felt her cheeks burn.

He took a step back, positioned toward the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?”

Taking an eager step toward him, she asked, “You promise?”

Pinning him between herself and the door, he stopped her with an arm to her shoulder. It wasn’t forceful, nor repulsive. With a quick searching of her face, he dipped himself until he caught her lips in a quick peck.

Pulling back just a bit, he said, “I promise. I’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

Reluctantly, she let him go, and he left through the door without a lingering stare.

  


-

  


_Locked hand-in-hand, Alicia and Rufus stood at the end of the aisle, a beaming Silmeria awaiting them. Arngrim remained several feet away from Rufus, and looked sideways at the couple._

_Alicia’s heart pounded as the realization that the moment had arrived. The waiting disappeared with little warning, and now the churning in her stomach told her that this was all too real._

_Eyes moving between the two, Silmeria wasted no time. “Rufus…Alicia…Do you swear to receive and accept each other?”_

_Rufus turned his head, saying nothing until Alicia met his gaze. “Alicia?”_

_Her lips broke into a smile fueled by the overwhelming happiness within her. “Rufus.”_

_Then, squeezing his hand, they chimed, “We swear.”_

  


-

  


Alicia found herself without sleep that night, not at all with the regained strength Rufus said that they needed to continue that day’s journey. She drug herself from the bed, still consumed with thoughts of the night before. No matter how much she chided herself, her fatigue came embraced with unease. It had become a necessity—she _needed_ to see Rufus, if only to know that he hadn’t abandoned her, that he hadn’t been repulsed by her forwardness.

She still had no idea what any of this meant. A dream was meant to stay a dream. When it stopped being a dream, what happened next?

Throwing a comb through her hair, she straightened herself until she believed herself presentable enough to face her counterpart. However, when she knocked on the door to his room, there was no response. She tried to enter, but it was locked, and silence echoed back at her from behind the thick wall of wood when she pressed an ear to it.

She couldn’t put a name to the heaviness in her stomach, but it was enough to make her want to vomit. Tearing down the hall until she came to the door leading to the lobby, she threw herself through it, gasping for breath. Her eyes frantically searched the area within the four walls: the startled innkeeper, her counter, two vacant tables for guests, and a large, bay window, a man faced toward the outside.

He turned just as the commotion echoed into the room, long, green hair swaying with his movements. Rufus stared as Alicia tripped over one of the chairs to get to him, steadying herself just before she took a nasty fall. His lifted brows gradually softened as she came nearer, a twinkle of laughter playing in his eyes.

“That eager for breakfast, huh?” he asked, stepping forward to tousle her hair.

She swatted his hand away, the disquiet falling from her, only to be replaced by embarrassment. “You weren’t in your room,” she said, labored breaths betraying her annoyance. Or, perhaps, it was the fire in her own eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d let him get under her skin. But, it had been a long time coming. She blamed the dream.

He allowed his laughter to materialize, gathering her into his arms for an unreturned hug. He didn’t appear to mind, releasing her a moment later.

“I’ve been up for a while,” he confessed. “Couldn’t sleep, actually, so I went for a walk.” He scanned her face, then pressed his lips together, although the hint of a smile remained. “Sorry, did I worry you?”

Only then did she allow her gaze to fall to her shoes, stiff and a whirlwind of thoughts. He returned his arm to her shoulder, slowly shaking her to life.

“Alicia?” Now, he sounded concerned. “You okay?”

Her fingers balled together to make tiny fists. “I thought you left without me,” she mumbled, partially ashamed of her own inability to believe in him.

He said nothing for a moment, the arm around her tightening until she found herself pressed to his side.

“That’s a silly thing to think,” he said, causing her to gaze back up at him. His warm eyes strengthened the shame within her. Before she could apologize, he pressed his lips to her forehead for a quick kiss. With another squeeze into him, he continued, “We’re in this for the long haul. You’re stuck with me, so you’d best get used to it.”

Then his arm fell away and he made for the door. She watched him, absentmindedly touching the place on her forehead that still burned from his lips. It tingled against her fingers, and she trembled at the thought that this was how it was, now. As for this…she could get used to this.

Maybe there was no silk hat or white dress, or even Ring of Mylinn to discern what they had between them, but, for now, they had each other. Even when it felt that the world around her would crumble and fade away, even without Silmeria, Rufus remained her constant.

And, for now, that was enough.

  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> :D
> 
> Looking forward to that Valkyrie Profile Anatomia English release.
> 
> Hope you liked it!
> 
> ~ML


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